


The Butterfly Effect

by JuliaMG



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Bad Parenting, Chronic Pain, Depression, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Panic Attacks, Physical Therapy, Please Don't Kill Me, Romance, Sad, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sharing a Bed, Sleep Deprivation, Stomach Ache, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Therapy, Violence, alternative universe, i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaMG/pseuds/JuliaMG
Summary: When he sniffles and still says nothing, avoiding looking her in the eyes, she decides to put it out clear and simple for him. "Do you have someone you can talk to?"[...] Despite all of his faults, Justin is the closest thing Alex has to a friend right now, so after another moment of hesitation, he nods, much to Angelina's approval."Yeah." He mumbles out, picking at the hem of his cardigan, glancing at the raw cuts on the inside of his arm. He doesn't want to talk with Justin, but he thinks that if he wants to get through this, which Angelina somehow manages to convince him into wanting after every visit, he knows that he probably should. He knows that he cannot do this alone, and the thought of approaching Jessica makes him feel nauseous. The others are out of question. Justin it is then. He takes a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out, meeting Angelina's eyes. "Yeah, I think I do actually."Or, Alex Standall decides to give living one last chance, and Justin Foley is a major part of that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, you beautiful people! <3
> 
> This is my second story that I post, and this time I am going for one with chapters. I really hope that you all will enjoy it, and if you do, please leave a comment telling me what you think? I would love for some requests as well, and all ideas and suggestions are highly appreciated! :D
> 
> Again, English is not my first language, but I read through it multiple times and I sure hope that there aren't any major mistakes somewhere. If there is, I apologise in advance... :P
> 
> WARNING: This story will involve A LOT of negative thinking and suicidal thoughts, along with self harm, depression, panic attacks and so on, so please, please if you feel like you might be triggered or sadden by reading this: Don't. I love you all, and I don't want to see you sad.
> 
> And remember, if you are depressed or hurting in any way possible, don't hesitate seeking help! <3

"Alex?" His therapist prompts gently as he disappears for a longer time than necessary in his own mind. She is sitting across from him, leaning forward with her arms crossed over the table, a blue notepad discarded in her lap and a pen in her right hand. She looks ready to reach out for him, but he doesn't want her to touch him and he told her so during their first meeting. She is young, and naive, and now she is looking at him with worried eyes behind those old fashioned square glasses. The tag on her bluse says _Dr. A. Hemings_ , but she has told him to call her Angelina. He finds that particularly hard with the very strict "no-sir-yes-sir" policy going on at home, but he tries his best to follow her wishes. Right now, the mirror of concern on her face is so alike Jessica's expression when he told her about his stomach problems for the first time, and he nearly wants to punch her, just because the thought of Jessica makes him want to run and never look back. He doesn't though, because despite being surprisingly prone to anger and even fighting of late, he doesn't really _enjoy_ it, and Angelina has been nothing but kind.

"Yeah?" He answers quietly instead, glancing up from where his fingers are twisted together in his lap so tightly that he can see the knuckles stand out white. He meets her searching eyes mostly just to prove that she has his attention, and in a weak attempt at trying to convince her that he is fine. He has already forgotten her previous question, and she offers a small smile of approval as their eyes makes connection.

The red bangs are curled over her forehead and she truly does look pretty with her head tilted slightly to the side, that tight, worried tug of her plum colored lips reminds him of his mother, but Alex knows better than to voice his thoughts. She would just take it as him being avoidant, or even rude, and honestly, Alex knows that giving his therapist compliments might not be the best of his ideas. It might be inappropriate and unprofessional, not to talk about awkward. He just really wishes that he had given those kind of comments to Hannah when she was _alive_. He hates the regret, and he hates the guilt. Quite frankly, he hates himself too.

  
Angelina looks like she wants to say something. Maybe she is ready to repeat the question she had given him over five minutes ago, or maybe she wants to ask him what's on his mind, but then her lips turns into a thin line, and the frown returns to her face. She is thinking, evaluating her options and ways to go on with their appointment. Alex shifts uneasily in the gigantic armchair, trying his best not to shrink away under her intense stare of scrutinization.

"You have always been very clear with me that there are some things that you cannot talk to me about." She says when she has finished trying to map him out, voice gentle and an offer to open up, but she is not exactly prying or trying to force him into saying something he doesn't want to have said. Alex looks away from her eyes, frowning into his lap again. He hates not being able to tell her about everything that's on his mind. She actually makes a really good impression of caring, and he likes her company. He always feels a bit lighter when leaving her office, but keeping some things locked up inside of him, keeping the worst stuff locked up inside of him; it doesn't work in the long run. Five minutes out in the world tops, and reality dawns on him again. Hannah returns in his mind, voice still so hauntingly clear every time he thinks he hears her speak. He remembers Jessica and the accident in the pool house, and he remembers how much of a fucking disappointment he is. Everything just comes right back to him, and he fucking hates having to fake being okay.

"But I do think you should talk to _someone_." Angelina continues, and Alex sucks in a harsh breath though his nose that almost sounds like an annoyed snort, or a barely recognizable attempt at holding back a sob.

There are a lot of things he cannot tell her about. The tapes for example. Those belongs to a part of him that he has locked up inside of him behind so many layers of guilt that he can feel it crawling up his throat sometimes; choking him. He talks about Hannah sometimes. At first he just talked about her in third person, but then he had a small crisis and during one of his many mental breakdowns he must have accidentally mentioned her name, because during his next visit, Angelina wanted to talk about "Hannah". He threaded carefully after that, told her about his former best friend who committed suicide and explained how guilty he felt. Luckily for him, she instantly jumped to conclusions which stopped him from admitting something stupid. She told him that feeling guilty about another person committing suicide was absolutely normal, because for some reason "normal" was one of her favorite words to use, and he never mentioned the tapes and he wasn't going to. He didn't mention the fact that he was one of the bullies; one of the people who drove Hannah into doing what she did, and he tries to avoid the subject as much as possible, just to assure himself that he won't say anything he will regret later on.

He likes Angelina. He likes that she lets him play dumb sometimes as if she doesn't notice him avoiding her questions, and that she lets him shut her out completely whenever he thinks that she goes to far or starts to suspect that he cannot keep quiet much longer. He likes that she doesn't seem like the kind of therapist who pries for the truth. She seems content with only parts of it, so that he gives her something to work with so that she can actually try and help him. He wonders if she still would want to help him if she found out that he was a killer, that the girl he had spent so many hours crying over in her office actually was killed by him. Help wasn't really anything that was working on him either. He was still just as broken as he was the first time he stepped through that door to Dr. Hemings office.

"Talking to someone about what truly troubles you might as well do you a lot of good Alex. If you cannot talk to me about it; fine. But I can see that you are hurting and if you don't start talking to me, I can't help you."

He also can't tell her about the raw, itching marks on his writs, hidden from view underneath the cardigan he always wears nowadays. If she found out, she would stamp him with the "at risk for his own life" label, and she would be obligated to inform his parents. That was the last thing Alex wanted. It was already awkward enough that they had gone through this exact process in sixth grade, when Alex's stomach problems first started acting up and his old therapist somehow managed to convince him that talking to his parents was a fucking  _excellent_ idea. It had all ended with Alex's father angrily lecturing him about being weak; talking to a therapist was _ridiculous_ because there wasn't _anything_ wrong with his son.

His mother simply didn't care all that much. She barely even mentioned the meetings after she found out, and now Alex wonders if they even remembers it at all. Anyhow, Alex really doesn't see the point in them knowing about his not so healthy ways of coping with all the pain and guilt he is feeling. He wouldn't even be able to give them an arguable reason, which would only mate the matter worse. If his older brother found out, he would most likely just tell him to "suck it up"; as if Alex hadn't tried that already. There was also a good chance that his brother would call him a girl, because in his mind, only girls were capable of cutting.

Cutting was just Alex's way of escaping the pain, and he knew that it might not be the healthiest of methods, but it actually worked, at least for a little while. It worked better than alcohol, and better than pain killers, because when the effects of those _medications_ faded away, he just felt even worse than he did before.

_"Every single event documented here may never have happened had you, Alex, not written my name on that list. It's that simple."_

His foot bumps up and down on the floor as he tries to calm the raising levels of panic building in his chest. Hannah's voice follows him everywhere. He is never free from her, and he hates that her voice makes him shiver. He hates that it makes him hate himself even more. He just... fucking hates _everything_.

_"You've heard of the butterfly effect, right? That if a butterfly flaps its wings at just the right time in just the right place. It can cause a hurricane thousands of miles away. It's chaos theory. But, see, chaos theory isn't exactly about chaos. It's about how a tiny change in a big system can affect everything. Chaos theory. Sounds dramatic, but it's not. Ask a mathematician. Better yet, ask someone who's been in a hurricane."_

He also can't tell Angelina about his negative way of thinking, or how he even only a few hours ago contemplated stepping out into running traffic before stepping into her office instead. That would _definitely_ make her call his parents.

_"The butterfly effect. It started with Justin... and onto you, Alex. And the rest of you. Maybe these tapes will start a new butterfly effect. Who knows?"_

Alex shifts uneasily under Angelina's intense eyes, glancing around the room just to buy himself more time. The walls of the hospital are cream colored behind a bunch of bookshelves that are placed across the room by the wall. They are filled with books, sorted by their authors' last names. Alex had noticed this during his first visitation, when his nerves had spiked so high that it was physically impossible for him to sit still, and he had turned to sliding his fingertips over every book, memorizing them just to try and chase Hannah's voice away as Angelina patiently had tried to get him to talk. It hadn't really worked, but at least they had made progress.

Angelina sighs. She sounds tired, like she is trying to push a small child into talking to her. Alex can't help but feel incredulously small, blinking rapidly in an attempt to make the wetness in his eyes to go away. The tears still prickle his eyes, and when one is threateningly close to slipping out and run down his cheek, he lifts his hand up to wipe it away. He pretends not to notice the way Angelina's frown deepens, and the way her eyes follows his every move, as if she almost can see the cuts underneath his cardigan. When he sniffles and still says nothing, avoiding looking her in the eyes, she decides to put it out clear and simple for him.

"Do you have someone you can talk to Alex?"

Alex blinks a couple of times, just to try and sort his thoughts out. They are running crazy in his head. Nothing makes sense, but he tries to see past the blur. He pictures Jessica in his head; all those many hours they spent at Monet's are heartbreaking memories. He can still feel her soft hand brush against his own shaking one as he told her about the origins of his stomach pains. He can still remember her gentle, warm eyes as she scanned him over, searching for answers on his skin. Hannah was the first one to stop coming, but Jessica had always been there. Jessica with her warm, comforting hugs and gentle kisses on his cheek. Jessica with her comforting knee bumps under the table over lunch and understanding nods of her head as he told her about his spiraling depression. She has never judged him, never looked down on him. He loves her, more as a friend now than his actual ex girlfriend, but he loves her nonetheless. She is his light now, especially since Hannah is gone, but he also knows that he can't bother Jessica.

He can't go to her with his problems when he knows what has happened to her. He can't bring himself to do anything about it either, not even say anything on the subject. He can't talk to her about it, and he knows that he has let her down. He has failed her just as much as Hannah, and he simply cannot bother her with his all of problems when he knows that she has her own to deal with. She is much worse off than him, in a way, so it clearly isn't fair of him to even consider bothering her with all his shit. The way she looks at him sometimes, when his stomach acts out and he is in so much pain he has to physically force himself not to double over, sends shivers of guilt down his spine. She wants to help him, she still fucking _cares_ about him, and he doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve _her_.

No, he can't turn to Jessica.

Alex closes his eyes for a moment, and thinks back on the past few weeks. He instantly rules out Bryce and Montgomery, for reasons that could as well go unsaid. Bryce is a fucking rapist, and Montgomery... is just a bully and an absolute ass. He has never even spoken to Ryan or Courtney before the tapes, and Clay reminds him too much of Hannah. He seems like a decent enough guy, and he and Hannah had been friends, but he can also be very annoying and fucking inquisitive, and Alex sure as hell don't want him to turn his depressing story time into an interrogation. He has enough of those at home already.

Then there is Zach. Zach is actually one of the few guys in the group that he actually finds somewhat interesting to talk to, but they aren't _friends_. He kind of seems like a nice guy and Hannah liked him, but she had also tried to open up to him and he had left her hanging. First of all, he can't possibly just look past that fact; that he knew and did nothing, and secondly, what insinuates that this time will be different? Zach might as well leave him hanging as well, and Alex is pretty sure he can't handle rejection one more time, not from Zach, not from anyone.

What Marcus did is fucking unbelievable and unforgivable. The sight of him makes Alex wants to punch something, for real. It makes him want to go after Bryce, mostly just for the sake of wiping that smug fucking smile of his off of his face. He is bigger than Marcus though, and he actually scares the living shit out of Alex, no matter how many beers he has downed. He is intimidating, and actually somehow manages to appear decent despite being a fucking monster. The double personality freaks Alex out. He always feels like something terrible is about to happen hen Bryce is around, and he never knows what to expect. All he knows is that that guy deserves to be put behind fucking bars, forever.

There is also Tyler, but Tyler is... Tyler. Alex has no idea how to describe the guy. Something about the sight of him just makes Alex feel annoyed, and even more tired than he already is. He doesn't get on his nerves too much, and he hasn't been downright and openly  _mean_ to anyone as far as Alex is concerned. He is creepy and thinking about those photos makes Alex's skin crawl, but he is an introverted outsider, and most of the time, he leaves them alone. Alex has even stepped up for him a couple of times, looked out for him, but that was mostly because he was fucking _tired_ of bullies and Tyler apparently made an easy target. Alex's doesn't even want to consider going there, but now his options are running thin. He doesn't talk much to Sheri either. She seems like a kind girl, but again, they aren't friends and Alex doesn't want to bother her.

In the end, that just leaves him with Justin. Justin fucking Foley, who Hannah said started it all.

This is the Justin who had let Jessica get fucking raped, and for some reason still didn't get sick by just the sight of his so called "friend" Bryce. This is the Justin who pushed him into doing stuff he really didn't want to do, like driving Clay through town in the middle of the night just to "scare him", or drinking on a school night because they wanted to "hang out", or make a stupid fucking _list_ , just because that would "make him fucking cool".

This is also the Justin who had tried to talk him out of fighting Montgomery though, and who had been standing outside his door in the middle of the fucking night looking like a kicked, abandoned puppy. This is also the Justin who complimented his mother's steak and ate like he hadn't gotten a decent meal inside of him in forever, and who spent the night sleeping on a mattress in Alex's room. This is also the Justin who casually asked him why he quit jazz band as he gently strummed on Alex's guitar, and the Justin who gave him a confused, non-teasing I-am-actually-listening kind of look as he told him with as much truth in his voice as possible that he just didn't _enjoy_ it anymore.

And despite all of his faults, Justin is the closest thing Alex has to a friend right now, so after another moment of hesitation, he nods, much to Angelina's approval.

"Yeah." He mumbles out, picking at the hem of his cardigan, glancing at the raw cuts on the inside of his arm. He doesn't want to talk with Justin, but he thinks that if he wants to get through this, which Angelina somehow manages to convince him into wanting after every visit, he knows that he probably should. He knows that he cannot do this alone, and the thought of approaching Jessica makes him feel nauseous. The others are out of question. Justin it is then. He takes a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out, meeting Angelina's eyes. "Yeah, I think I do actually."

_"Everything effects everything."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> I just really wanted to thank all of you for leaving so many kind comments and kudos on this story (and on my other one). It truly means the world to me, and I seriously can't thank you all enough. All of my love to you. I really hope that you guys will like the second chapter of The Butterfly Effect. <3
> 
> Last time I promised some Justin, and he will turn up, but he won't get a major part until the next chapter, so please stay tuned for that! :)
> 
> Once again, a million of "thank you"'s goes out to all of you wonderful people.
> 
> Also, thank you so much for the bookmarks, it truly makes me so happy. I'm just so happy right now, I can't stop smiling! :D
> 
> Please continue on showing your support and leaving comments. It truly means so, so much!
> 
> Warning: This chapter basically is about a very tired and sleep deprived Alex trying to handle a LOT of emotions in the same time. He isn't doing so well, poor baby. Maybe there will be some Justin comforting Alex in the next chapter...? :*

Two days has passed since his last talk with Angelina, and Alex feels just as miserable as usual, if not even worse. The cafeteria is busy with people moving in every direction, and the blur of people makes Alex feel a little bit dizzy. He has a massive headache, and he knows it's most likely due to sleep deprivation. In the past week he can't have gotten more than eight hours of sleep total. Four days ago he took a whole bunch of melatonin pills that only resulted in him feeling a bit oozy and very confused. They hadn't help put him under he influence of sleep like he had hoped they would; like Angelina promised they would. After that incident his stomach hurt like crazy, and he knew that he had taken an overdose. Since Angelina also had promised him that there was no way of dying from a melatonin overdose, Alex felt no need to throw them back up. Not that he was so sure he would mind if he actually was at risk of dying.

  
The lack of sleep is starting to take a toll on him now. He can barely focus in class and his stomach is really hurting now. The small ache has turned into something worse, and Alex wants nothing more but to just curl up into a ball and go to fucking sleep, but he can do neither. The pain never goes away no matter how small he tries to make himself appear, and sleep won’t come to him no matter how hard he tries. Fuck insomnia and fuck melatonin. Last night he spent three hours in bed before finally falling asleep one hour past midnight, and then he just woke up about an hour later, body wide awake but with a mind that still felt like a complete mess. The following four hours he spent tossing and turning, praying for sleep that wouldn't come to him, before deciding enough was enough. He went up and tried to play a little on his guitar, but the strings sounded _horrible_ and out of tune. Alex wanted to break its neck in half, but instead he just placed it in the wardrobe and closed the door behind it so that he wouldn't have to see it every time he came home.

  
The other guys are loud around him. Alex tries his best to tune them out, staring at nothing in particular. He has long since lost track of who is there sitting next to him at the table, and he can’t make out what is being said or by who. The voices he probably should recognize has turned into a messy, muted noice, and it almost feels like static in his ears.

  
The food on his plate has been left uneaten, and Alex is pretty sure it will remain that way. He honestly doesn't have much of an appetite when he’s stomach is bothering him as much as it is today. It just makes him feel nauseous. He knows that if Jess was here, she would look at him weird, because she knows that he loves lasagna, but he doesn’t look up to check if she has left the table or not. He honestly doesn't even have the energy too. He is so fucking tired, it’s insane. He feels weak and wobbly, and all he wants is just to close his eyes for just a few seconds…

  
The sounds of the cafeteria and the other guys' noisy conversations turns somewhat muffled, and Alex doesn't realize he's nodding off until his chin tips down and it feels like he’s falling. The world spins even with his eyes closed, and for a horrible second Alex starts to believe that he is about to pass out in the middle of the cafeteria, but then a hand lands on his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin, steadying him as he sways more than a little bit in his chair.

  
"You okay man?"

  
It’s Zach. Alex can hear him speak through the haze in his mind and even in the state he is in, Alex can tell that Zach actually sounds worried. In order to make Zach not fucking worry, he tries his best to get his thoughts on straight, head turning on it’s own accord, and he frowns at the tall, muscular Asian-American guy.

  
The dark spots in his vision are still dancing around the room, and he still feels really lightheaded. He is pretty sure Zach is the only thing holding him steady and upright in this moment. He tries not to think too much about it, and does his best to straighten himself up, so he isn’t sagging as much under Zach’s touch. The other guy doesn't let him go though, and despite the awkwardness of the whole situation, Alex actually finds it in himself to be thankful. The floor is fucking hard, and he doesn’t want to explain to the whole fucking school how he "swooned" in the cafeteria with his plate still full of food. Rumors would spread and go around like wildfire, and he already knows that they would be about some sort of eating disorder. People already talked about him being too skinny when they thought he weren't listening, and when he first arrived those were the only words that spread around him for a while. "The new, skinny kid with bleached blonde hair" was his alias back then. The last couple of days he had barely eaten anything at all, and he knew that passing out would only confirm the rumors.

  
He couldn't help but wonder why no one ever spoke of the bags under his eyes, but then again, maybe they did. Alex tried to tune them all out anyways. He might as well have missed them.

  
"Yeah." Alex breathes out, because he knows he has to unless he wants to have a concerned Zach hovering over him all day like Alex is some sort of child that needs his mother’s protection; or a suicidal man who needs someone to stop them from doing something incredulously stupid.

  
To Alex, "something stupid" doesn't exactly sound stupid. Especially not today, and not right now. "Yeah, sure." He says instead. "I’m all good. I’m fucking _perfect_."

  
Zach doesn't let up the grip he has on Alex's shoulder though, and Alex has no interest in shaking him off, despite knowing that he probably should in proving his point that he is truly fucking terrific. The hand feels warm and actually sort of nice, and Alex is tired of feeling so fucking _alone_ all the time. Being touched apparently does that to people; makes them feel less alone. Alex can barely remember the last time someone had touched him in a friendly manner; last time someone laid their hands on him was when Montgomery bashed his face in. Realizing that makes his stomach hurt even more, simply because thinking about how lonely he truly feels makes him feel even more alone.

  
Zach’s hand on his shoulder makes him feel slightly better. The heat of his skin and the weight of his muscles actually chases some of the cold that has etched itself into Alex’s soul away. He almost starts to drift off again, disappearing back into his own thoughts, as Zach speaks up, voice impossible to tune out or ignore, demanding attention.

  
"You’ve been distant lately."

  
Alex blinks his eyes open, not really remembering when he closed them, and looks up at Zach again, eyebrows raised in an attempt to look annoyed, but the glaze in his eyes gives the character away. Instead, he is pretty sure he just looks like he is trying too hard to convince Zach that he is speaking nonsense, and only manages to prove the opposite of what he wants to in the process.

  
The black haired guy gives him a small, reassuring looking smile that makes Alex wonder what he is being reassured of. Probably a lot of things. It also makes him wonder how fucking miserable he actually looks to others. Maybe he isn’t as good at bottling things up as he thought he was; as he wants to be. There is a pause before Zach adds, a small hint of a genuine, humored smile on his lips: "More distant than usual, that is.”

  
Alex wonders if he’s done after that, hopes that he is, but he continues, voice soft and eyes warm. Alex wants this moment to never end. He is so fucking _tired_ and he isn’t even ashamed to admit to himself that Zach feels like home in this moment. Alex feels safe under the other’s look of concern. He feels warm under his touch. He blames all of these emotions on sleep deprivation, blinking sluggishly at the guy he almost can call his friend. At this point, it sure as hell feels like they are.

  
“I'm just... worried about you, you know?"

  
Despite the fact that those words probably should have been expected under circumstances such as these, it takes Alex by surprise. The moment of confusion causes some of the real emotions to turmoil on his face as his defenses goes raveling. He almost drops the whole facade of being _fine_ before plastering it right back on, building the walls holding his emotions in check right back up in order to protect himself from whatever that is to come.

  
In the end, non of the sturdiness would matter as Zach opened his mouth and hell broke loose. They still would have been torn down as if they were made of glass.

  
"You know you can talk to me right?" Zach says then, head held low in order to look Alex dead in the eye and his voice is so fucking soft and honest. He sounds so genuine it should have been reassuring, but for some reason all of the exhaustion and warmth is replaced by anger in that moment. The words actually makes Alex blood _boil_ , and Zach must have seen something change in his face, because he leans back a little, straightening his back. The mother hen inside of him seems to lock itself up behind the thick skin of _"Zach Dempsey; The coolest kid at Liberty High"_ , and Zach’s hand falls away from his shoulder, slowly raising in surrender.

  
Alex tries to convince himself that he has no reason getting all worked up, but he is fucking _mad_ and he can’t help it. The anger makes him feel more awake, more aware, and with the warmth of Zach’s hand leaving him, he thinks that he actually sort of needs another distraction from the pain he is feeling inside.

  
"I'm just saying.” Zach says, but this time his voice is a little bit more defensive. His eyes have lost their openhearted shade of hospitality. “I'm here if you want to talk."

  
Before Alex can stop himself, he is standing up so fast that he nearly falls off of his feet. The sudden movement does no good to his hurting head and the world actually spins, and for a long second Alex once again believes that he is about to pass out. This time, Zach doesn't steady him, and in order to keep himself upright and wait for the dark spots to go away, he takes a steady grip of the table, hunching over slightly in order to work down the burning pain in his abdomen.

  
When his vision finally clears he notices that Zach looks ready to reach out for him again, hands twitching and eyes worried, possibly feeling the need to steady him, but that just makes Alex angrier, and he doesn't know why. Zach is being really nice. He doesn't deserve to receive a punch from Alex, but Alex just can't take the kind words for whatever reason. He just can't.

  
The burning anger in his chest grows as he catches the worried look in Zach's dark eyes, and before he knows it, before he can think better of it or stop himself, he is speaking, voice furious and way too fucking high. It echoes in the cafeteria and he knows it probably sounds like he just went through puberty, but he doesn’t give a shit. He doesn't even care about the fact that he draws everyone's attention to their table.

  
"Really?” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm. He briefly wonders why he is being so loud, but he doesn’t stop there though, and he can see Zach’s face fall. “'I'm here'. Yeah, _right_. Is that what you told Hannah, too?"

  
His voice cracks over Hannah's name, but the embarrassment barely registers under the heated circumstances. He can feel his face burning, but it is purely due to anger and nothing else. He can't remember feeling this fucking angry in forever, not without deciding whether he has the right to or not, but in the same time he hasn't felt so alive in weeks either, and it feels good. He feels more awake than ever.

  
He wants to fight. It makes something hot swell in his chest that replaces the cold inside of him much more effectively than the warmth from Zach's hand, and pain is also a pleasant distraction. He learned that from fighting Montgomery. Fighting Zach would definitively inflict pain on him. That guy has muscles and he is massive in comparison to weak, skinny and pathetic little Alex.

  
Zach will practically be doing him a favor, he just doesn't know it.

  
"What the hell man?" Zach bursts out as he gets up to his feet, but his hands aren’t raised and he doesn’t look like he wants to fight. Alex needs to change that. He wants to hurt Zach for what he did to Hannah. He wants to hurt him for trying to trick Alex into opening up to him when he doesn't even _care_. He is fake and a fucking jerk.

Alex wants to be punched as well. He wants to fight, and he wants to lose.

  
At the same time as Zach speaks Justin tries to warn him with a standard "calm the fuck down Standall" that means nothing to Alex, because Justin's heart is not even in it. He just sounds tired. Jessica exclaims a shocked "Alex!" in a disturbingly concerned tone that would've made Alex hesitate if it wasn't for the fact that the fucking hypocrite Zach Dempsey just offered him a shoulder to lean on when he fucking turned _Hannah_ down.

  
Right now Zach is staring at him with something raw in his wide eyes, and he is such a good actor that Alex almost believes him. Almost. But he won't fall for it. He is such a great fucking liar, but Alex won’t give in. Tears are prickling the corner of his eyes, and he knows that if it wasn't for the anger, he would most likely be sobbing his heart out right now. He is fragile and he knows it, but that doesn't stop him. Just the thought of Hannah makes him bristle, or put him on the breaking point. Even buried deep under ground she still manages to tear down his defenses so that nothing remains but a crying, broken shell of who he used to be.

  
In the heat of the moment, Alex vaguely wonders if all of this, his reaction, the anger and the way he simply cannot believe that Zach has good intentions, is just a result of sleep deprivation and guilt form what happened to Hannah, but right this moment, he can’t find it in himself to care about that either. He just wants it all to stop. He doesn't want to feel _anything_ , and being bashed into a bleeding mess sort of helps him on his way to the land of nothingness. Using Hannah as an excuse to fight might not be fair, but the emotions in his chest are real. He wants Zach to pay for what he did. He want them all to pay, just like he is trying to do every time he lets the blade drag lines over his arms.

  
"That's just great. _Great_!" He laughs, but it is a humorless sound.

  
Jessica has also climbed to her feet, and when Alex meets her concerned but slightly angry eyes the guilt crashes into him at such force he actually groans, pain doubling in his stomach. He clenches his eyes shut and leans over as he counts to ten slowly in his head, just focusing on breathing to calm the anxieties fluttering in his chest like tiny butterflies of hatred. He knows that the only way of dulling the pain in his abdomen is to calm down, but he's not fucking finished yet.

  
He still has a lot more to say, and for some reason he can't keep his voice down. He is still very close to screaming, just as he was when he challenged Montgomery. Zach isn't as prone to fighting as Montgomery though, and Alex hates it. It pisses him off even more. He fucking _hates_ Zach. He hates the way he makes Alex feel like someone actually cares about him, when Alex knows in his heart that he is unlikable. He hates the way he makes Alex feel safe and the way he somehow manages to convince him that everything is going to be fine, because it isn't and Alex can't share anything with anyone. Nothing will ever be "fine". Alex will never be "okay". They fucking _killed_ a girl, and Alex just wants to know how any of them can be fucking _fine_ with that. Alex sure as hell isn’t, but he can’t see them breaking down over it. All he can hear is them trying to justify their actions with nothing but words.

  
He is weaker than them, and he knows that, but for some reason, he also feels like his morals are the only ones that actually are somewhat humane. The guilt is slowly drowning him, swallowing him. These fuckers just doesn't give a shit, and if they do, they are great at not showing it. Alex hates that. He wishes he could do that too, but he has always been more of the sensitive type. He had always been the boy who cried instead of fought, and his dad would always give him these really disappointed looks as if he wondered how a cop like himself could end up with a son like Alex.

  
Alex hates that no matter what he does, he always manages to disappoint his father.

  
Alex simply hates everything. Including himself.

  
Good _God_ he is so damn tired.

  
But he is still far from done.

  
"You're such a fucking hypocrite!"

  
He gives Zach a shove on the chest and he puts all of his remaining strength into it, but the other boy doesn't even as much as budge. Instead, he just looks even more concerned. For _fucks_ _sake_ , he doesn’t even look _mad_ , and that only fuels Alex’s anger even more. He feels so fucking weak, but he wants Zach to hurt so that he will hurt Alex back.

He knows that he is fucking desperate, but he doesn't _care_.

  
He can hear people gathering around them, and someone is speaking to him, possibly more than just one person, calling his name, but all Alex can see is Zach and the fucking stunned look on his face and those worried, dark eyes underneath those black eyebrows, and he wants a _reaction_ ; he just really needs any sort of a fucking reaction.

_  
”You’re going to tell me this one's no big deal but let me tell you about being lonely. Humans are a social species. We rule on connections to survive. Even the most basic social interactions help keep us alive.”_

  
"Hannah _trusted_ you! You were good to her! She told you _everything_! She told you how she felt and then you did nothing! You let her believe that no one fucking cared about her! That her feelings meant _nothing_! ‘I’ll listen’, yeah right! You know what, screw that. That’s bullshit and you know it! You are such a fucking liar you fucking..!"

  
"Alex, _shut the hell up!"_

  
Suddenly someone steps up between Alex and Zach, and pushes Alex so hard in the chest that he stumbles a good couple of steps back, fighting to find his balance as the world once again spins around him and his vision blurs. He nearly loses his footing, but he regains it and goes back in again, stepping into Zach’s personal space, because over those short seconds it doesn't register in Alex's sleep deprived brain that there is a second body stationed between himself and Zach; so in Alex’s brain the only logical explanation is that he finally had touched a nerve that made Zach rile up. It must have been Zach who pushed him. Simple math.

In the same moment as he attempts to shove right back at Zach though, he notices the second body and as confusion clouds his thoughts and he slows down, hands land on his chest again. This time he isn’t pushed though, but they rather hold him back. There’s almost something close to intimate about the gentle touch. It’s like whoever that's in the way actually knows that he has no strength in himself whatsoever to fight with. He doesn’t even struggle or push the hand away. He simply stands there, dumbfounded.

  
He blinks a couple of times, and then when his eyes finally makes out the shape of another jock he recognizes the person as being Justin Foley. There is something hard in his eyes, a warning and a promise of violence if he goes any further, but his forehead is creased in something that Alex only can interpret as concern, no matter how hard he tries to see past it.

  
The fight drains out of him and leaves him feeling really fucking  _exhausted_.

  
As Alex finally comes back down to the real world again and his actions starts to catch up with him, he also realizes that the world seems to have come to a stop around them. Everyone is silent, still gathered around them like they are the biggest excitement of the day. They probably are, but everyone looks disappointed in the fact that no actual punches had crossed paths.

  
Alex can't help but wonder if they all were this quiet and excited after hearing the news about Hannah killing herself; if this was how getting everyone's attention felt like when you felt dead inside.

  
The only thing that breaks the silence is the sound of Alex's heavy breathing. His chest is heaving for air, trying and struggling to draw a full breath. He feels so hot; warmth is rushing through his insides, but he also feel fucking exhausted, and he can't _think_. Focusing feels like an impossibility, and his concentration is lost somewhere else. The dark spots have increased in number and in size, and Alex breathes out a long, shaky breath, hoping that they will go away if he just manages to make his breathing return to normal.

  
His heart is hammering inside his chest, punching at his ribs. That seems to be the only punches Alex will receive today. Fuck Justin and his ways of getting in the way. Fuck Justin for pushing Alex away and holding Zach back with his mind and presence alone. Fuck Justin for looking like he actually cares about him. Fuck everything.

_  
"Statistics prove the subjective feeling of loneliness can increase the likelihood of premature death by 26%. If it sound like I’m quoting from a school textbook I am. Too bad nobody bothered to read it.”_

  
Suddenly there’s a hand on Alex’s shoulder, and the only thing that keeps him from pushing it off or throwing a punch in the person's general direction is how gentle the touch feels, and the soft scent of a very familiar perfume that comes with it. He doesn't even need to glance over to know it's Jess. She has her hand on his arm, squeezing gently, clearly trying to gain his attention and draw it away from Zach and Justin. He briefly wonders if it is Justin or Alex she is trying to protect and look out for, but then the jealousy settles into a heavy feeling of acceptance. He knows that it is Justin that she is doing this for. She doesn't care if Alex gets his face a little beaten up. Right?

  
At least that is what he is trying to convince himself of, because that makes it a lot easier to deal with the guilt. The way she looks at him though, with worry so evident in her beautiful, brown eyes, makes Alex refrain from continuing down on that self loathing road. She does care about him, and she is doing this for him just as much as for Justin, if not more for Alex's sake. She is worried about him, and there is no way he can escape that fact.

  
He also knows that she is trying to calm him down because she is trying to save all of their asses. Now that the situation has calmed down a bit, even Alex knows that he'd taken it a bit too far. Screaming Zach’s secret all over the cafeteria was a bit extreme, even for him. Knowing that doesn't exactly make it any easier to deal with though, because the guilt doesn't go away and the way she looks at him gives him such a good reason to believe that she still fucking cares, and Alex doesn't deserve that. He knows he doesn't.

  
He doesn't deserve happiness. All he does is ruin it. He is ruining her, just like he ruined Hannah. He has let them both down, and he will be sure to drag his mistakes to the grave, because that is what he deserves. He deserves to suffer. He certainly don’t deserve forgiveness. Not that he will be getting it from a dead girl anyways.

_  
“And let me tell you there’s all kinds of ways to feel lonely.”_

  
And just like that, Alex can't stay there anymore. The cafeteria is crowded with people, and they are all staring at them, staring at him. He can hear them whispering, leaning into each other and with muffled voices say something in each others' ears. Alex wants the anger to come back, because that sure as hell is easier to deal with than the crushing, paralyzingly harsh numbness that settles into his bones in its wake.

He can hear Jess say something, but her voice is drowned out by the sound of his own thoughts slowly driving him crazy. He turns around, leaving his plate and everything on the table and brushes Jessica's hand off of his shoulder without so much as a word or another glance.

  
He ignores the way he feels so much colder without it being there.

  
First Zach, and now Jess. What is wrong with him?

  
_Everything_ , his mind unhelpfully replies, and he knows that his unconsciousness is right.

  
As he steps out the doors and the fresh air hits him like an unwelcomed hug, he finds himself thinking that he is really fucking lonely as well. Hannah might never have seen it, but he was fucking lonely even before all of this went down. He has always been really fucking lonely, and that loneliness is slowly eating away at him along with the guilt, and the fear and stress and _pain_. He told Jess about it when they were still together one day at Monet’s. He'd told her how he felt like he was threading water, and that he knew that at some point he wouldn’t have the strength to continue. She had told him with tears in beautiful, warm her eyes that she knew that he would make it through. She had told him that he was strong, and he had wanted to tell her that he wasn’t.

  
He had also told her that he was afraid of drowning, because at some point he knew that he would be going down that road. It was inevitable, and he'd told her that he was afraid of dragging her down with him, because that is what drowning people do. That is a part of the many reasons as to why he's leaving the cafeteria right now, walking away from her.

He knows that he is toxic to her and everyone else.

  
“So if I kill myself, do you die too?”, was his words to Justin only a couple of weeks ago. Or was it only a week ago? Alex can’t really remember. It sure as hell feels like he will be doing everyone a favor.

  
Right now he is sinking, and he knows it. He is sinking really fucking _fast_. He can’t breathe. The water is rushing into his lungs and soon he will be dead too. Just as dead as Hannah. And no one is there to throw him a lifebuoy. He is alone. All alone.

  
Alex has always heard that drowning is one of the worst pains you can experience as the water enters the body, but when you finally stop fighting and accepts your faith, it is actually blissfully painless. They say it's almost like getting high. Alex just wants it all to stop. He longs for that bliss.

_  
"What if the only way not to feel bad is to stop feeling anything at all, forever?"_

  
Alex just wants to give up.

  
The door closes behind him with a little bang and it silences the noise and the calls of his name. The sounds of nature takes its place but Alex hears nothing of it as he walks away without any sort of direction whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so, so much for reading!
> 
> Please leave your thoughts in the comments. It would truly mean the world to me! :D <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for being this late with the update. School and personal issues came in the way, and I sort of lost my interest in writing for a little while. But, now I feel a little bit better, and even though I'm not super happy with how this chapter turned out I am very excited about continuing this story. I am so very happy for all of your support and I really hope that you guys will stick around, because it truly means the world to me when I read all of your kind comments. It makes me truly happy! <3

Alex sits outside the school by the football field, hands shaking and stomach hurting. He feels like shit, and all he wants is to go to sleep. The wind has picked up and his arms feels chilly in the cold afternoon. Despite shivering, he feels grateful for the cold. It is a good way to keep himself awake. He doesn't feel as tired out here in the cold, but he still feels fucking exhausted.

He can’t stop thinking about the hurt in Zach’s eyes. The raw, vulnerability that had burned in his eyes as Alex had done everything in his power to make his so called “friend” hurt and ready to defend himself; it hadn’t happened. The only thing that crawls under Alex’s skin now is shame, but he ignores it the best he can. They don’t care about him, so why should he care about them?

_"In the end, everything matters."_

Alex has already missed chemistry, and he isn't really in the mood for math either. His dad will be pissed when he finds out he has skipped class, but right now, Alex doesn't really care. Right now, his top priority is to keep himself from doing something "stupid", that feels so incredibly right in this moment. To keep himself preoccupied with doing something, he just continues to scratch at the red marks on his arms, picking at the not fully healed wounds until they bleed slightly. The pain is nothing compared to the bruises Montgomery left on his face, but it is better than feeling nothing at all.

Now that the adrenaline has faded away and Alex's heart is not beating as violently in his chest, it slowly dawns on him that he probably wasn't being reasonable back in the cafeteria. Zach wasn't trying to be cruel, if anything, he was just being nice, and Alex shut him down as if he was an enemy plane invading his land. Alex wants to think that he had the right to bite back considering what Zach did to Hannah, but right now, he can't really bring himself to think like that either. He is just tired. He can't really bring himself to care about any of it, actually.

He leans his head back, closing his eyes and breathing in the cold. The wind whips around his face, and it feels good. It helps ease the headache that never truly goes away. The pain is still pulsating through his temples, but at least now it feels a little bit more bearable. The quiet does him good, he tells himself, but it is not long before it is interrupted.

"Standall!"

It is Justin. Alex flinches at the sound of his voice and instantly, reflexively, covers his wrists by rolling down the arms of the cardigan again. He opens his eyes and turns his head to the sound of Foley's voice, trying his best not to glare. The jock is walking towards him with his hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised and something incredulous in his eyes. For a second Alex considers standing up, meeting Justin with a defensive stance, but then he thinks better of it. If he stands up right now he might just sway or even fall back down, and he won't give Justin that satisfaction.

He actually looks pissed off.

"What the hell was that all about?"

_"Do you have someone you can talk to Alex?"._

The promise he gave to Angelina comes back to him all of a sudden, and he actually groans when he remembers picking Justin as to being that person. What was he even thinking? Why the hell would he even think for a second that Justin actually cared about him? Alex stays quiet, tries his best to ignore Justin's presence all together. Maybe he will go away if he just wishes it hard enough.

There is a pause where Alex actually starts to believe operation-ignore-Justin has worked, but then he can feel the wind change a little, and suddenly something warm is rested close to his arm. Alex can feel the bench shift slightly under the added weight of another body, and in the corner of his eye he can see the shape of Justin. The brown haired kid is looking at him, and Alex sighs heavily at the almost worried look behind the steel in his blue eyes. He truly must be imagining things now. Maybe he is truly going crazy.

"You did a real good job at exposing Dempsey to everyone back in there." Justin continues after the moment has passed, and even though his words are hard his tone is soft. He almost sounds humored, like he finds something about this whole mess funny. He doesn't exactly sound mad, and Alex can't decide it if he likes that or not. It makes him feel uncomfortable, but it also makes him remember his meeting with Angelina again. He had promised he would talk to someone, and that someone apparently had to be Justing fucking Foley of all people. This was probably a chance as good as any, but he simply doesn't feel like talking right now.

Instead he just shrugs as an answer, and a very uncomfortable silence stretches between them. Alex can barely feel it though. He just stares out on the field, hands in his pockets. Justin does the same, but he breaks the tension after a little while. Alex has always wondered how awkward silences can be so easy to break for some people. To him, it has always been hard as hell and seemingly impossible.

"No witty comeback, huh?"

At that, Alex glances up to catch Justin's eyes. He is sitting with his hands in his pockets, looking bored and wanting to move, but for some reason he is still there. The dark clouds are blocking most of the sun, but it's still midday and every detail in Justin's face is visible. He is frowning a little, but he doesn't look uncaring or unkind.

He is sitting so close that Alex actually can feel the heat radiate from his skin despite the cold winds. For a moment it is almost like this isn't Justin Foley the perfect jock and Alex isn't Alex Standall the pathetic loser. He can feel the slight shivers run down his arm, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn't actually feel completely at loss of himself in company of others. He feels strangely stuck in the present, and he wonders why Justin does that to him.

"We can see that you're not doing so good, you know." Justin says, voice gentle but firm over the sound of the wind.

"Yeah?" Alex mutters, and there is a hint of his usual sarcasm in his voice, because heck, of course they must've noticed. Justin actually has the nerve to chuckle, but before Alex has the time to allow himself to be mad, he realizes that the sound of Justin's breathy laugh isn't exactly mean. He turns his head again towards him, and Justin looks right back.

"Yeah, you fucking idiot." He says, almost rolling his eyes at him. “You make it painfully clear. I think the whole school have noticed by now.”

“Great.” Alex shots back, but that is just _great_. Now they all know how much of an idiot he is. Not that they didn’t think that before… before Hannah. Happy people made other people happy, he knew that. Alex wasn’t exactly happy. He was drowning, and he was taking everyone around him down with him. He knew he would be doing everyone a favor by just simply giving up, but for some reason he couldn’t really bring himself to do anything at the moment. Right now, he was just desperate for sleep.

“Look man, we are all having a pretty rough time keeping ourselves together.” Justin continues, and his voice has taken on that harsh tone again that makes irritation bubble in Alex’s chest. “But you really need to chill out.”

“Really Foley?” Alex spits out. He has had enough of Justin’s fucking pity. He won’t just stand here and pretend like it doesn’t piss him off. Why is he even here? What is he even trying to accomplish? If he isn't leaving, then Alex is.

Anger once again bubbles in his chest as he raises to his feet and takes a couple of steps towards the school. Before he gets very far, he can hear Justin getting up behind him, and then there is a hand on his arm, trying to stop him from moving away. He spins around, which causes the world to continue to spin even when he stands still, and he blinks away the blur as the throws Justin’s arm off of him.

“What the hell is your problem Standall?” Justin snaps angrily. Alex knows Justin has a short temper and he knows that he is testing his luck, but maybe that is exactly what he wants, what he needs. Justin might be the only person ready to throw punches.

“You think I need to chill?” Alex takes a step forward, hands coming up to push Justin in the chest before the other boy has the chance to throw his arms out and deflect the blow. Fire is flaring up in Justin’s eyes by now, but for some reason he won’t act on it. “You think I need to chill out, huh?”

“Shut the hell up Standall.” He answers, tone clipped and impatient. He looks tired, but it is a different kind of tired than the one that is paralysing Alex’s very being. “You’re not being yourself, so just shut it and listen to me.”

“Fuck you!”

Alex once again takes a furious step forward, but this time Justin simply steps aside. The world spins as Alex looses his footling, stumbling forward. Suddenly the world goes uncaringly black. Spots dances in front of his vision but Hannah is there too, smiling at him. Her smile is wicked and nothing like the beautiful Hannah he once knew, and it scares the living shit out of him. Yet, he can’t seem to blink the darkness away, and he feels himself topple over.

"Shit." Justin swears as he bolts forward and just barely manages to catch Alex by the arms as he falls. The fingers digs into Alex's skin so hard he knows they must bruise later, but Alex almost feels grateful, because his fucking legs won't carry his weight right now, and his touch makes Hannah feels slightly less real. Her evil smile fades a little, and the dark spots is invaded by the smallest amount of light.

Alex knows he is just barely wavering between unconsciousness and consciousness, blindly grabbing at the air and at Justin’s arms, not knowing wether he will be able to catch himself before he looses it completely. Maybe then he will finally be able to get some sleep.

" _Shit_.” Justin mutters again under his breath. “What the actual fuck Standall?"

Justin tries to heave him back up, but when he realizes that Alex's legs just continue to act like jelly underneath him, he sits them both down to the ground. Alex simply lets himself be manhandled, trying to ground himself the best he can, as Foley kneels in front of him, eyes wide and confused.

"Standall? Can you hear me?" Before Alex even gets the chance to open his mouth and answer, Justin is patting his cheek repeatedly, obviously trying to gain his attention with the hint of desperation in his eyes.

Fuck, Alex thinks as he leans back, and swats his hand away irritatedly. Sleep really wouldn’t come to him. "Yes _Foley_. I'm not fucking deaf."

"You..." Justin begins, voice hard and angry, but then he trails off. He seems to think better of it. If Alex wanted to, he could easily have seen the wheels turning in the other boy's head. When he continues talking, his voice is much softer. "You nearly fainted on me Standall. What do you want me to say?"

Alex wants to protest, to say that he most definitely did not just about faint a few moments ago, but then he realizes that he can't actually say that with certainty.

There is a pause again before Justin speaks up, voice still uncharacteristically soft.

"You're not sleeping, aren’t you?"

The words sends a shiver down Alex's spine and he tries to glare at Justin. It doesn't exactly work, and he gives up after a little while. He is tired of trying to be okay, and he is pretty sure that it's pretty goddamn obvious that he's not sleeping considering the dark bags under his eyes. So instead of trying to play it off like he usually does, he just shrugs. Justin is too stubborn to be convinced otherwise anyways. If he has set his mind into the fact that Alex isn't sleeping, then there's no way Alex will be able to tell him any different.

"You know I have something that can help you get some sleep right?" Justin continues then, and Alex frowns at him. Doesn’t really believe him, but some idiotic part of him still trusts him, and he doesn’t know why.

“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless even to his own ears and Justin checks him up and down, as if he is searching for answers he knows Alex won’t give him. Then he stops for a second, biting into his bottom lip, staring holes into Alex’s façade.

“Are your parents still out?” Justin asks instead of answering Alex’s question, and Alex can’t remember telling him that. It’s true though, they aren’t at home. He just nods. “Your brother?”

“Out.”

Alex feels the urge to claw at his arms again, but he resists. Instead he picks at the rocks on the ground, blinking at the dirt gathering under his nails. Justin still holds a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly holding him in place. His eyes are lowered as he tries to catch Alex’s eyes.

“How long will it be until they’re back?”

“A couple of days or two.”

Alex blinks tiredly, trying his best to ignore the pain in his head as he tries to focus on Justin. The boy makes absolutely no sense, but if he has something that can make Alex sleep, then he will be grateful.

Justin looks torn for a second. As if he doesn’t really know what to do or say, but then he sets his jaw in a perfect impression of determination.

“Come on Standall. We’re going home to your place.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! All of your thoughts are highly appreciated, so pleace let me know what you think by leaving a comment. It would truly mean the world to me! <3
> 
> The next chapter should include some Justin, I promise!


End file.
